


If I should fall

by ebonyfeather



Category: Primeval
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 02:51:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebonyfeather/pseuds/ebonyfeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the disastrous end to the ARC project, Lester found that returning to his life wasn’t as easy as he first thought. He wasn’t the only one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Canon character death discussed  
> SPOILERS: End of series 3, webisodes, start of series 4 (set in between series 3 and 4)

 

James Lester sat behind his desk in the Home Office and half-heartedly poked at a pile of paperwork with the end of his pen. It had been two months since the ARC had been closed down, the project coming to an abrupt end following what his superiors called ‘one too many errors in judgement’. Errors in judgement, that was what they’d said, though he wondered how they could call the loss of three members of his team and the death of another an error.

 

Sarah Page’s death had taken a toll on all of them. At least they could still believe that Danny, Connor and Abby were still alive, wherever they were, but when Becker had returned carrying Sarah’s body, bloodied from the creature attack, it had hit them hard. And she was just the latest casualty of Becker’s relentless search for his missing team mates. Two of his men had returned with serious injuries from the previous trip, just as he himself was sporting a line of stitches and a bandage on a particularly nasty gash to his forearm.

 

When word had reached them of the decision to discontinue the project, Lester’s first thought was of those still missing. What if they returned and found no one here? He couldn’t bear them thinking that they had been abandoned. There was still a chance for them, he knew; there was a small contingent remaining on alert for anomalies but they were merely a clean-up crew. There would be no studying of the creatures, no investigating the anomalies or trying to predict them. They would merely go in with guns blazing, lock the anomaly and kill anything that had come through.

 

Those overseeing the ARC no longer saw Lester as fit to run it, his record with the project had too many deaths and losses to be left in charge. Dr Page had been the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back, one too many incidents that they saw as a lack of control over the project.

 

Becker and the military team had all been recalled, their orders coming through the same day as the ARC was closed, while the civilians scientists and techs’ contracts were terminated. And him? He had been brought back here and assigned to a desk in a dark corner of the Home Office, where his superiors and colleagues barely spoke to him, seeing the ARC project and its leader as a failure to be ignored at all costs.

 

Lester missed the others from the ARC, though he would likely deny it should he be asked. He missed having them around, missed having someone to talk to, and it was for this reason that he had sought out Becker. He had grown increasingly fond of Becker, a little more fond than had been acceptable when he had been Becker’s superior at the ARC. There, his interest had mostly been limited to watching from afar whilst enjoying the younger man’s friendship. Sometimes he had thought that Becker returned his interest, but it was only in those last few weeks that he had been sure of it. By that point, Lester didn’t give a damn about etiquette, about relationships between a superior and his employee being frowned upon. With what they were going through every day, they deserved any bit of happiness they could find and it was nobody’s business but theirs. When it was just the two of them, the only ones left from the team, they had become closer, spending their evenings at one or the other’s home or in a quiet pub, trying to drown out the failures of their latest rescue attempt.

 

After he’d lost Sarah, Becker hadn’t handled it well at all. Lester remembered the day he’d gone to Becker’s house, looking for the man when he didn’t turn up for work or answer the numerous phone calls. He’d found Becker passed out on his sofa, an empty Jack Daniels bottle dropped onto the floor beside him. He was glad that he knew where Becker kept his spare key, he thought as he let himself in, trying to rouse the other man. Eventually, he had dragged Becker upstairs, still unconscious and held him, fully dressed, under a cold shower. Becker came around a short time later, swearing at Lester and looking embarrassed at being found this way in equal measures.

 

That had been the turning point, the drinks after work becoming dinner or a film, anything that would prevent them both using alcohol to wipe out their day. It seemed that event had brought a new level of trust between them too, something closer than friendship, something that had stopped before it really began as the ARC was closed and both of them reassigned.

 

Lester had no expectations of picking up where they had left off in their potential relationship; he would be happy just to have Becker’s friendship back.

 

Tracking down a special forces Captain wasn’t an easy task, even when he could use Home Office clearance to bully answer people into giving him information, but what he found was a shock.

 

Becker had gone AWOL almost immediately after being recalled. That had been two months ago.

 

~.~

 

It took Lester a while, but eventually he found Becker. Or at least he thought he had. It seemed that Hilary Becker had dropped off the face of the planet since they had last spoken: no credit card transactions, no bills, no calls made from his phone… no trace of him at all. But Lester was not without connections, and determination went a long way.

 

Which was why, three weeks later, he found himself standing in the middle of Bradford city centre at eleven o’clock at night, feeling distinctly out of place as the masses of twenty-somethings passed him by. He was right where he needed to be, though.

 

He waited until the latest group of partygoers went into the nightclub, keeping out of sight as he watched, hoping that this was the right place.

 

Eventually, the taller of the two doormen turned, and Lester felt a sigh of relief escape his lips. It was definitely Becker, though his hair was cut shorter and he had a couple of days growth of stubble. He’d also lost weight, Lester noted; he obviously hadn’t been looking after himself.

 

Lester waited until there was a lull in activity and the other doorman had moved away slightly before approaching, still unsure of what Becker’s reaction would be. He didn’t want to cause a scene and make Becker run again or, worse, get him sent back to the Army to face charges of being absent without leave.

 

The moment that Becker saw him, his eyes widened in alarm and he looked ready to bolt, only Lester’s hand on his arm stopping him.

 

“I’m here alone; no one else knows where you are.”

 

Becker appeared to relax a little, but the nervous looks he kept shooting toward the other doorman didn’t stop.

 

“Hil-”

 

“It’s ‘Alex’,” Becker cut him off in a low voice.

 

Lester nodded. “I wanted to see you. What happened?”

 

“Not here, please, James.”

 

“What time do you finish? My car is nearby; I can sit and wait, if you like.”

 

“I’m off at 2 am.” After a moment’s hesitation, Becker took a set of keys out of his pocket and handed them over, borrowing a pen from Lester to write down an address on the back of a bus ticket he found in his pocket. “So you don’t have to sit in your car. This is my place. I don’t think there’s much food in, and I don’t have a TV, but you can make yourself a cup of tea while you wait.”

 

Lester accepted the keys and the address, looking up when the other doorman came across.

 

“Alex, the boss wants a word.”

 

Becker nodded and turned away and, as Lester left, he heard the other man ask,

 

“Who was that?”

 

“Old friend,” Becker replied, the rest of his words drowned out by the music as he opened the door to go inside.

 

~.~

 

Lester checked the address three times to make sure he’d read it right. This place was a dump; he didn’t even want to leave his car outside, fearing that the wheels, or possibly the whole car, would be gone by the time he came back to it. The buildings were run down, a few of them abandoned, with their windows smashed and boarded over. It was definitely correct, he discovered as he tested the key that Becker had given him in the lock.

 

Upstairs, he used the second key to let himself into flat 1b. Inside was an improvement on the outside, but that wasn’t to say it made him feel any better about the fact that Becker was living here. Flicking on the light he saw that the tiny flat was barely more than three rooms, just a bedroom, bathroom and kitchen/living area, the furniture old and shabby as though it had either come with the flat or had been a handout from someone looking to throw it away. From outside, the flickering of a streetlight made shadows dance on the wall and Lester pulled the curtain across the window to stop it before heading for the kitchen. Becker had said to make himself a cup of tea, and that was what he needed right about now.

 

Three hours later, Becker came home looking weary and still suspicious of Lester’s sudden appearance.

 

“Would you care for some tea?” Lester offered as Becker dumped his coat in the corner of the living area. “Or something to eat? I took the liberty of restocking your refrigerator, seeing as you didn’t have any food.”

 

Becker frowned at him. “Why?”

 

“As you said, you don’t have a TV and I got bored,” Lester told him with a smile. “Turns out there is a 24 hour supermarket not far from here. Now, you must be hungry if you’ve just got home from the club.”

 

“I usually don’t bother about having anything when I get home, just go to bed.”

 

Lester cast a critical look over Becker. “No wonder you look so thin if you’re not eating properly.”

 

“Well the majority of what I earn from the club goes toward bus fares to get me there and paying rent on this shit-hole. Food, I can do without if I have to,” Becker replied defensively, turning on his heel and heading for his bedroom, leaving Lester regretting that last comment.

 

He reappeared ten minutes later in a pair of jogging trousers and a t-shirt with a hoodie hanging open over it. By which time, Lester had a cup of tea waiting for him, as well as a plate of scrambled eggs on toast with a side of bacon. He wasn’t sure if it would be welcome or not, but he hated seeing Becker like this. Telling him to sit down, Lester passed him a tray with his plate of food, utensils and tea, waiting until Becker began before sitting down with his own mug of tea.

 

“Why are you here, James?” Becker asked when he’d finished and set his tray aside.

 

“I tried to get in contact with you and they told me what you’d done. I was worried about you.”

 

“You thought maybe I’d done something stupid?”

 

Lester smiled. “Well I _was_ the one who found you unconscious the last time,” he said, only half joking. The thought that Becker could have had another bad day and drunk himself into coma had crossed his mind briefly. “You went missing, Hilary. What was I supposed to think? There is an arrest warrant out for you, for goodness sake.” He saw Becker tense and reassured him. “I meant what I said earlier. No one knows where you are but me.”

 

“Before you even suggest it, I won’t go back. I can’t.”

 

“I’m not going to make you. What happened?”

 

Becker looked down at his hands then, avoiding Lester’s eyes as he spoke.

 

“I thought I could just pick up where I left off but I couldn’t. I submitted my resignation but when I petitioned to be allowed to leave immediately, they refused it. Said I’d have to wait the required twelve months. So, I left. I didn’t really think it through at the time, but I just knew I couldn’t go back.” He glanced up, the expression on his face telling Lester that he was expecting to see disappointment there. “I couldn’t go back into combat; I couldn’t handle losing anyone else. Danny was my best mate, Connor and Abby, and Cutter. Then Sarah. I’m a soldier and I’ve lost people before but that’s war, you know what you’re fighting for. Watching that creature kill Sarah for no reason other than because it wanted to, and not being able to do anything to save her...”

 

“So, I got away before they could put me back on rotation and ship me out to fuck knows where, and ended up here. A mate of mine owns the club and he’s been paying me cash in hand.”

 

“Why didn’t you call me? I might have been able to help.”

 

Becker smiled sympathetically at Lester. “Forgive me for saying, James, but I doubt that you’re looked upon any more favourably than I am at present.”

 

Lester thought back to his desk at the Home Office, the corner they’d tucked him away in so that they wouldn’t have to acknowledge the spectacular disaster that the ARC project had become. After the final few months of the project, and the losses suffered whilst on his watch, Becker would not have returned to the army as a hero, rather as the man who had lost five of the people in his primary care.

 

“I could at least have been a friend,” Lester told him. “Or I could have helped financially, if you needed money.”

 

“I didn’t want to get you involved. I knew the risks of walking away; I wasn’t willing to let anyone else, especially you, get caught up in it.”

 

Standing, Lester tidied away their cups and plates before returning to Becker.

 

“Now, you should get some sleep,” he said. “We can talk again when you wake up.”

 

Becker looked surprised. “You’ll still be here?”

 

“I shall,” Lester informed him. He had already called the office and told them that he had a family emergency and that he wouldn’t be back for a couple of days. He wanted time to talk to Becker properly, to try and help him, and he wasn’t going anywhere until he knew that Becker was okay.

 

~.~

 

Lester returned home two days later, still thinking about Becker. He hated to leave him in that horrid little flat, barely having enough money to pay his rent, let alone feed himself properly, but he wasn’t sure what else to do. He could offer to let Becker stay with him, but he knew that the minute Becker came back he would be arrested. No, first Lester had to think of a way of getting him out of trouble with the military. Unfortunately, Becker was right. At present, Lester had very little standing or authority. He had been able to find Becker only because of his personal contacts, but they wouldn’t be able to do much in this case.

 

Becker did keep in touch, though, using the mobile phone that Lester had paid for and set up in his own name in order to keep Becker’s details off the records. It was sad to say that, at present, Becker’s brief calls were the highlight of his day.

 

He barely had contact with anyone outside of the office, spending his evenings alone. Now, he found himself looking forward to talking to Becker and going to visit him on weekends. As Becker didn’t work at the club on Sundays or Mondays, Lester had taken to working Tuesday to Saturday and then driving down to see him.

 

Sunday came and Lester began the now-familiar drive. It took him a couple of hours but eventually he arrived at in Becker’s neighbourhood and parked his car in the street just outside the flat, under the streetlight, so that he could keep an eye on it. They went for a meal and a few drinks, making their way back to the flat when he noticed Becker looking uncomfortable about being out for so long. With the exception of the club, where he’d said that none of the patrons would be sober enough to remember him, Becker preferred to remain in his flat. Lester saw him tense each time he saw a policeman, as though he expected someone to be looking for him. They _were_ looking for him but, at the moment, one absent captain was hardly their top priority.

 

So, they went back to Becker’s flat and Lester made a mental note to bring him the portable television out of his spare room at home. He couldn’t watch TV as he didn’t have a TV license, but it had a built in DVD player. Lester could bring him some DVD’s as well.

 

When it got late and they were both ready to turn in, Lester went to the cupboard where the spare blankets and pillow were kept. When he visited, he slept on Becker’s uncomfortably short sofa, but this time Becker took the blanket himself.

 

“You should take the bed,” Becker told him “I’ll take the floor. I’ve slept on worse,” he added when Lester protested.

 

“The bed has enough room for us both,” Lester pointed out. “We’re adults; we can share.”

 

Becker stared at him for a moment and Lester could almost see the thoughts whirring though his brain.

 

“At your flat before I left, I thought that we…” He paused.

 

“Hilary, I remember, and I wished that we’d had more time to see where that could lead us before we were both sent away,” Lester told him.

 

Becker nodded briefly. “Wished. I suppose you’ve got someone else by now.”

 

“No. No one since you.”

 

There was silence for a moment, before, “I get it, you know, why you wouldn’t want me any more-”

 

Lester frowned. That was what he really thought? Lester had thought that Becker had enough to worry about at present, not wanting to add to that by making advances that he wasn’t sure would still be welcomed.

 

Striding over to where Becker stood, he cupped Becker’s face with his hands and kissed him softly. “Hilary, get into bed.”

 

Becker smiled, quickly shedding his clothes and sliding in between the covers. As Lester climbed in beside him, getting comfortable, he kissed him once more. He’d missed this; it felt so good to just be close to Becker again. That night, he slept curled around Becker, thinking how much harder it would be when he had to return home tomorrow.

 

~.~

 

Nearly three months after he found Becker, Lester was summoned to the minister’s office. It was the first time that they had bothered to even acknowledge him outside of a passing ‘good morning’ or handing some paperwork off to him, and that made him suspicious. When he went in, he found that he wasn’t alone in this meeting. Across from the minister’s desk, a beady-eyed man in a wrinkled suit was idly flicking through a file. As Lester entered, he looked up and offered what he obviously thought was a welcoming smile. It reminded Lester of a raptor right before it pounced on its lunch.

 

“Ah, James. Please come in. Take a seat.”

 

Now he was even more suspicious. They wanted something, he just didn’t know what.

 

“Would you like something to drink? Tea, perhaps?”

 

Lester shook his head.

 

“I expect that you are wondering what this is all about,” the minister began. He saw Lester glance at the stranger again and smiled. “Forgive my manners; James, this is Peter Mackay. He works in scientific research.”

 

Now it was starting to make sense, but he was left wondering what exactly they had left to blame him for regarding the ARC project that they hadn’t already dropped at his feet. He remained silent, waiting for them to get to the point.

 

Peter Mackay cleared his throat and consulted his file once more.

 

“You were the senior team member of the ARC project for three years, correct?”

 

Lester nodded. “Yes.”

 

“And as the rest of your team is currently either missing or deceased, it would be fair to say that your experience is rather unique.”

 

Again, he nodded. He could have pointed out that Becker was still alive and well, but he didn’t. Before he drew their attention to Becker, he wanted to know what he was dealing with. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem likely that they were going to get around to that in the next few hours.

 

“Sir, if I may ask,” he began, ignoring Mackay to speak directly to the Minister. “Where is this leading? I have already given a full account of the ARC situation and of the tragedy and loss of each member of my team. There is nothing new that I can tell you.”

 

The two men frowned at each other, confused for a moment, before Mackay spoke.

 

“Mr Lester, you misunderstand me. The ARC project is to be reopened, this time as a joint Public/Private partnership. I presume that you have heard of Philip Burton? He has agreed to back the project, to provide the ARC with monetary, technologic and scientific support. What we need is someone to co-ordinate the project and we feel that you would be the best person for that job. Your experience will prove invaluable when creating a new team.”

 

Well, he wasn’t expecting that. Lester looked between them, waiting for one of them to spring the real charges on him, but they both looked serious.

 

“Why now?” he had to ask. “You closed us down, leaving three of my team trapped in some unknown era, forbade us from continuing the rescue missions and effectively condemned them to death. You scattered what was left of my team and dumped me in a corner where you have continued to treat me like an embarrassment that is to be ignored. And now you just ask me to return?”

 

The Minister looked slightly shocked at his tone but Lester really didn’t care. They had essentially blamed the disasters that had befallen the team on his management; they at least owed him an apology.

 

Mackay seemed to understand this a little better than the Minister, if the sympathetic look on his face was anything to go by.

 

“Mr Lester, I understand that some things were handled badly before, but I stand by what I said. Your experience could be the difference between this project’s failure or success.”

 

They offered to let him think it over, saying that they required his answer by the end of the week, and told him that he was excused.

 

~.~

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

 

For the next two days, Lester thought about it. He could go back, no longer relegated to a desk in some forgotten corner of an office, but did he want to? There had been so much loss and sadness; did he really want to be reminded of that every day?

 

One thing that he was certain of, however, was that if he chose to return, he would play this situation to his own advantage.

 

By the end of Thursday, he had reached a decision. If he didn’t take the job, instead leaving it to a complete stranger, would they care about Connor, Abby and Danny? He didn’t think that anyone else would even bother to keep looking, simply writing them off as presumed dead. He could continue the search, even if it had to be done off the Minister’s radar.

 

When he walked into that office on Friday morning, seeing the Minister and Peter Mackay sitting there already, he didn’t even bother to wait for them to speak. Sitting down, he nodded.

 

“I have three conditions that are non-negotiable.”

 

The Minister looked ready to object but Mackay shot him a look that kept him silent. Interesting, Lester thought with an inner smile. It was handy to know which of them held the power in this double-act.

 

“Provided that they are within reason, Mr Lester,” Mackay said.

 

Lester ignored the Minister after that; there was no point in talking to the monkey when he could deal with the organ grinder.

 

“First: I want final approval on the primary team members as they are recruited.”

 

“Done.”

 

“Second: There will be no interference from outside agencies, individuals, or government hatchet-men. The incident with Christine Johnson last year caused a great deal of upset and trouble and I will not have that happening again.”

 

Mackay nodded even as the Minister said, “Now wait a moment, James…”

 

“You have it, Mr Lester,” Mackay confirmed, cutting off the Minister’s protests. “You said three conditions.”

 

“I did.” This was going to be the decider, Lester knew. This was where he found out just how serious they were about wanting him back.

 

“Thirdly: Hilary Becker.” He could see from their expressions as they heard his name that they were up to date with Becker’s file, and his recent absence. “He is to return as my head of security if he so wishes. I can bring him in, but I will require your guarantee that his resignation from the military will be approved immediately with no adverse effects, and that his unauthorised absence and outstanding arrest warrant will be erased from all records.”

 

Mackay and the Minister exchanged a glance before both of them nodded.

 

“It may take a few days, James,” the Minister said.

 

Lester held back the sigh of relief, not wanting to show them what that last one had meant to him.

 

“Very well. When you have his discharge papers and other documentation, send them to me and I will ensure that he signs them.” He stood to leave. “I will bring him in as soon as everything is complete. Good day, gentlemen.”

 

As he left the office, he determinedly kept his expression neutral until he was outside of the building. Only then did he allow the smile to curve his lips.

 

Two days later, a courier rapped on Lester’s door. He smiled. It was eight o’clock on a Sunday morning; they must have really pushed for the paperwork, he thought as he opened it to find Becker’s discharge, as well as written confirmation that the absence and warrant had indeed been expunged.

 

He couldn’t wait to tell Becker.

 

He had already been removed from his desk job and given a week’s leave to get things in order before he took the job at the new ARC and so he didn’t have to worry about calling to let them know he wouldn’t be in. All he had to do was pack a bag and get in his car.

 

~.~

 

“James? I thought you weren’t coming this weekend,” Becker said as he opened the door to his flat, self-consciously trying to finger comb his hair now that he had a guest. It didn’t make him look much neater, Lester thought, given the scruffy t-shirt and jeans Becker was wearing.

 

“I have a present for you,” Lester told him as he followed Becker back to his flat.

 

He took the envelope out of his bag and passed it to Becker as soon as they were seated, watching the expressions on Becker’s face as he took out the contents, reading them.

 

“Honourable discharge… Is this for real?”

 

Lester smiled. “The papers are genuine, and all you have to do is sign them.”

 

Becker read through them all again. “How did you manage this?”

 

“There is a catch. Well, not really, as you are free to turn down the offer if you want to,” Lester told him. “They are reopening the ARC, and have asked me to return. I would like you there too, to head the security teams. As a civilian, of course.”

 

“James, while I’m grateful for the offer, I just don’t know if I want to.”

 

Lester smiled. “I wasn’t sure at first, either, but I can’t just walk away, not while our people are still missing. Think it over; those papers were part of my deal, not yours. If you say no, your military discharge won’t be revoked.”

 

Becker put the papers aside and crouched in front of Lester’s chair, hands resting on Lester’s knees.

 

“Thank you,” he said. “For getting me a second chance. Now, can you stay or do you have to go back home?”

 

Lester indicated to the holdall that he had dropped by the door. “I’m off desk duty and I don’t start at the ARC until next Monday, so I’m all yours.”

 

“In that case, I think you should let me thank you properly,” Becker said, standing and taking Lester’s hand to pull him toward the bedroom.

 

When he got Lester to his feet, Becker leaned in for a kiss, sliding his hands along Lester’s shoulders to push his jacket off. Catching it as it fell, Becker neatly hung it over the back of a chair before pulling Lester back into his arms again.

 

Then he paused.

 

“If I come back with you, what happens to us?”

 

“As long as we employ discretion whilst at work, I don’t see that it is anyone else’s business what we do in our own time.” He smiled. “I’m not about to give this up, Hilary; I would rather turn down the job.”

 

Becker stared at him for a moment. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

 

“Yes. Now, I believe you were thanking me…”

 

Hooking a finger into Lester’s belt, Becker led him into the bedroom and kicked the door shut.

 

~.~

 

Lester knew that Becker hadn’t slept much during the night between their enthusiastic celebration of Becker’s freedom and Becker’s tossing and turning, but he had finally fallen asleep an hour earlier. Sliding out of bed carefully so as not to wake him, Lester picked up the t-shirt that Becker had been wearing the previous day and pulled it over his head. Heading for the kitchen, he looked in the cupboards in dismay. No juice, barely any bread and no bacon or eggs- just a box of sugar puffs. There was no way he was eating those for breakfast; he’d tried them once when Connor was staying with him and that had been enough. Vile things, he thought, going to retrieve his trousers and shoes and picking up his car keys.

 

By the time Becker woke up two hours later, or rather, was woken accidentally-on-purpose when Lester grew impatient and hungry and wanted his breakfast, Lester was busy cooking. He had bacon, eggs, friend bread, tomatoes and sausage, along with orange juice and a kettle boiling for a cup of tea afterwards, all on the plates when Becker emerged from the bedroom. He was wearing his jeans and no shirt or socks, yawning, his hair sticking up rather adorably. When he saw Lester, he smiled.

 

“So that’s where my t-shirt went,” he said, moving in behind Lester to slide his arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. “’Smells good.”

 

“Me or breakfast?”

 

“Of course I meant you,” Becker answered immediately, though he sniffed at the bacon and sausage discreetly.

 

Lester smiled, handing him a plate and a glass of orange juice.

 

“James, I’ve been thinking and I’m in. I’ll come back to the ARC,” Becker told him as they sat down.

 

“What made you decide to do it?”

 

Becker looked down at his plate, avoiding Lester’s gaze. “Because you asked me to,” he said simply, before adding, “Besides, I want to be there to make sure that nothing happens to you, too.”

 

“Oh, Hilary… nothing is going to happen to me. You don’t need to worry about that.”

 

Becker shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t help it. Everyone else I gave a damn about from that place is gone, and losing you would be twenty times worse.” His posture straightened then, and he picked up his knife and fork, cutting off a piece of bacon. “Better get eating before it goes cold.”

 

Lester still wasn’t sure if Becker’s words earlier were more to do with affection for him or a desire not to lose any more people who were under his protection. He hoped it was the former.

 

~.~

 

Three days later, Becker sat in the car beside Lester on the drive home. All of the paperwork had been finalised and submitted, meaning that when Becker returned he would be a free man. He had spent the entire journey in silence, staring out of the window, but Lester didn’t push him. They had already discussed this over breakfast, and Lester knew that he was worried about going back home. His father was going to be furious about his recent actions, being a military man himself he wasn’t going to understand why Becker had run, even now that everything had been sorted out. His mother and brother would probably sympathise, but he was expecting them to be angry as well, only they would be offended that he hadn’t called them.

 

His other problem was that seeing as he had been living in military housing whilst assigned to the ARC, he now didn’t have anywhere to go. Lester had arranged for his belongings to be stored but that didn’t solve his housing problem. When he had mentioned this a few days ago, Lester offered his spare room immediately, if Becker chose to use it, or his bed, but Becker still looked unsure.

 

“If you don’t want to, I won’t be offended,” Lester had assured him. “If you just want to use my spare room until you find something else, that’s fine.”

 

Becker smiled. “Thanks. I would love to stay, but maybe it would be moving a bit too fast. What if you get completely sick of living with me? And I’ve never lived with anyone else, not unless you count my family or my dorm mate at university. There were days when he drove me crazy- what if I do the same to you?”

 

“Hilary, I lived with Connor for almost a year,” Lester reminded him. “If I can put up with his mess and those bloody creatures he brought with him, I can put up with anything.”

 

“But that’s my point; if you have to put up with it, it’s going to start to annoy you eventually.”

 

Lester had to agree that made sense, but he was sure that Becker couldn’t have any habits that were anywhere close to as irritating as Connor’s had been.

 

“Then may I offer a third option? Come and stay, and we can look for something for you at the same time. Give it a few weeks and we’ll see how it goes; a trial run, if you like. When you find something else, you can take it if you still want to. Or you could turn it down if you decide to stay instead.”

 

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re going to use that time to convince me to stay permanently?” Becker asked.

 

“Who, me? As though I would attempt to influence your decision.”

 

Becker laughed. “Of course you would; I’m on to you, James Lester.”

 

Truth be told, Lester was intending to convince Becker to stay for as long as possible. He was looking forward to having someone in the flat again- whether he would admit it out loud or not, he missed Connor’s mess and his incessant chattering- and he was especially looking forward to that someone being Becker. Whatever their relationship had begun as, it had developed into something more and both of them knew it even though it was something that they had never really discussed. If he thought it wouldn’t scare Becker off completely, Lester would have said the L word a long time ago.

 

That was a talk for another day, though. First, they had a few other things to sort out.

 

~.~

 

For the first few weeks, Lester barely saw the new ARC building. He was kept in meetings to discuss budgets and how the new partnership with Prospero was going to work. He’d then had to have the Minister remind Philip Burton of the deal they had made in order to secure Lester’s involvement: No interference. Much to Philip’s irritation, that included his interference as well as any from Government departments. He wasn’t happy about it, but he reluctantly agreed. Then there were staff interviews and orientations, and signing off on the menagerie, finding keepers for the animals… it seemed to be an endless mountain of things that they wanted his signature on. Maybe he should have specified that the ‘no interference’ rule didn’t apply to paperwork.

 

Becker was already at the ARC along with two of the new recruits, Matt Anderson and Jess Parker, and a few assorted techs, getting things up and running for when the project officially re-opened at the end of the month. He seemed to be impressed with the new equipment and even more impressed with the new rules, especially the one that said that no one was to go through an anomaly for any reason. There would be no field trips, no exploring- they would be locked and that was it, leaving no risk of team members getting trapped. He seemed to have taken a shine to Matt and Jess, too, coming home each evening and telling Lester all about what the three of them had set up or something funny that one of them had said.

 

It was like watching the old Becker again, the one who laughed and joked and actually enjoyed his job, Lester thought. The new team would never be able to replace the old one, those members still missing or gone, but who said they had to? This was about starting again, creating something new.

 

“So, are you glad you came back?” Lester asked as he and Becker settled on the sofa in his flat one evening to watch an action film that Becker wanted to see. To Lester, they all looked the same but if it made Becker happy then he’d watch it.

 

Becker smiled. “I am. I like the new place, and the others. It’s good to be back there.”

 

Lester was still having problems with a few aspects of the project, namely Philip Burton and his desire to keep poking his nose into things that didn’t concern him. Just because the man had more money than he knew what to do with did not give him the right to keep trying to weasel his way into the day to day running of the ARC. Despite this, Lester knew what Becker meant. The ARC, even the new-fangled one with new staff and teams, still felt like home.

 

“It is,” he agreed.  

 

Becker shuffled back until he was half-laid along the sofa, his back resting against Lester, and lifted Lester’s arm to rest across his shoulders. After he’d fidgeted a bit more, Lester laughed.

 

“Are you quite finished?” he teased. “Maybe you’d like me to move then you can have the whole sofa to yourself?”

 

“I only want to sit here because you’re here.” There was a moment’s hesitation before Becker spoke again. “James? I don’t want to move out. I like it here, with you.”

 

Lester pressed a kiss to the top of Becker’s head. “Good. That will save me from having to bar the doors if you tried to leave.”

 

Becker laughed at that. If only he knew that Lester hadn’t been entirely joking with that last comment.

 

“James?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Can I borrow your car this weekend? Mum invited me to Sunday lunch and I think I’m going to go.”

 

“And talk to your dad?”

 

Becker nodded. He had called them shortly after getting back but while his mum and brother had quickly forgiven him, he still hadn’t spoken to his dad. Each time he got off the phone with his mum, and his dad hadn’t asked to say hello even though it was obvious that he was at home, Lester had seen the hurt expression on Becker’s face. He tried to tell him that it would work itself out, that his dad couldn’t stay angry for long, but it didn’t really help.

 

“Mum said you were welcome to come too,” Becker added, “but I’ll understand if you don’t want to. It’s not exactly going to be a pleasant atmosphere.”

 

 “I’ll be there. If we’re lucky, having his son’s cradle-snatching boyfriend to disapprove of might distract him from being angry with you.”

 

“Cradle-snatching?”

 

“I _am_ almost old enough to be your father.”

 

Becker pinched his leg. “No you’re not. Anyway, we’ve already been through this. You’re not old.”

 

He could still imagine Mr Becker having a problem with the age gap, though. Lester had spoken to Becker’s mum a couple of times, rather surprised when Becker had first held out the phone and said, “She wants to talk to you.” His brother, Piers, was equally friendly and they had met up with him for a drink the previous week. They seemed fine with it, but Becker’s mum and dad still hadn’t met him.

 

“Relax, mum’s going to love you,” Becker told him when he voiced his concerns.

 

“And how can you be so sure?”

 

“She will because _I_ love you.”

 

Lester didn’t care that Becker had just got comfortable, or that he looked slightly embarrassed about his impromptu declaration, he pulled his lover around to face him and crushed their lips together.

 

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

 

“That, Hilary, was for just being you. I love you too.”

 

Becker moved in for another kiss before turning and getting comfortable again.

 

As Becker’s attention focussed on the TV once more, Lester’s thoughts drifted. For the first time in months, it felt as though everything was falling into place. The ARC was back up and running, meaning they had a chance of finding their missing friends, and he and Becker were back where they belonged. What would happen in the long-run, or indeed at the weekend, he didn’t know, but right now he intended to just enjoy what he had.

 

Becker was staying, and he loved him. That was all that mattered.

 

 

~.~

End.  

 

  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from Black Lab 'Learning to crawl'-
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Can you teach me how to fly?  
>  See I’m scared to die  
> And we’ve only just begun to learn to crawl  
> Can you teach me how to fight?  
> Would you keep me up all night?  
> Would you be there on the ground if I should fall?  
> Fall for you_


End file.
